


Under the Black Flag

by paranormalcy



Series: A Pirate's Life - Pirate AU [1]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Blood and Injury, F/M, Pirate AU, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalcy/pseuds/paranormalcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you get sick of the crew’s advances you decide to take matters into your own hands, resulting in broken bones and a bloody nose. Captain Samuel Drake tends to your wounds then worships you in the way you deserve to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Black Flag

**Author's Note:**

> This serves as a kind of prequel to ‘O Captain, My Captain.’

When a pirate captain invited you to be a member of his crew you didn't expect to have a good time. God, you didn't expect to last a week. You didn't even know what you were doing or why you were doing it. Leaving your family behind and running away with a charming rogue... but here you were, standing on the deck of his ship, it was your third week at sea and so far you'd been doing remarkably well.

Except for the crew members unwanted advances.

You understood it, of course you did. You were the only woman on the ship, until they docked again they couldn't... _dock_ anywhere. You got it. You did. That doesn't mean you were okay with them grabbing your ass or trying to grope your breasts. It was unwanted and dammit, you wanted them to stop.

You debated going to the Captain. _Sam_. God he would have torn them limb from limb if he knew. He would have strung them up by their balls from the rigging and let you gut them all for revenge. You didn't want that. You didn't need that.

So when Sharky grabbed your ass that afternoon you snapped, twisted around and grabbed his arm; now Edward 'Sharky' Stevens is bigger than you, he's stronger than you, and he's a tougher son of a bitch than anyone you've ever met. Story goes that he escaped a shark attack by punching the shark in the face. It's how he earned his nickname. Whether or not it's an accurate account or ridiculously exaggerated... that's up for debate.

He's staring you down and you feel hatred in your chest, you throw a punch and it connects with his jaw. Sam's been teaching you, he doesn't want you to get hurt but in this case... you should have picked your fight somewhere else.

The crew sees this as a challenge. You've challenged him. You threw the first punch, you threw down the gauntlet. Challenge issued. And by the grin that's plastered on Sharky's face... challenge accepted.

They set up a ring, their bodies forming the barrier as they throw the two of you into the center.

And that's when you realize how screwed you are. Because you are. You're screwed.

His fist flies at you and you duck, rolling out of the way as he stumbles towards you. You run out of his way and flank him, jumping on his back, clawing at his face. Sam taught you more than just punches. Your nails find his eyes and you try to dig them in, he throws you off and you land on the deck, your breath being knocked out of your lungs. You wheeze as you try to suck in air, the crew is cheering for him, cheering for your inevitable death... you just hope it's fast.

A nearby door slams open and an angry looking figure pushes out through the crowd; the cheers have drawn the ship's quartermaster, Rafe, he's a man that looks too well put together to be a pirate, too slick and rich. He takes one look at what's happening and dives back inside, you can hear an echo of his voice yelling for Sam. You just had to stay alive until he gets here. Oh, _please_ , get here.

You stand and try to throw another punch at him, he just takes it as your fist connects with his face. You can feel the blow vibrate up your arm and the pain that shoots through your hand is almost unbearable. You hope it isn't broken. You curse, shaking it out. He grins.

Sam bursts out of the cabin, pushing through the crowd, eyes darting wildly as he takes in the sight. A punch sends you sprawling onto the deck, your head spinning and your vision blurred from the impact. You can feel something warm and wet running down from your nose. You gasp and you taste metal. _Blood_. "Fuck-"

You scramble away from Sharky as he tries to grab your legs, your waist, anything he can. Just get away, god dammit. Why isn't Sam stopping him? Why is he just standing there?

You look over at him, panic and fear in your eyes and Sam just looks at you. Then smiles, warmly, comfortingly, and mouths, 'you can do this.'

You can't do this. What is he talking about?

You feel something wrap around your leg and you screech as you get dragged across the deck, you kick out with your free leg and connect with Sharky's jaw as he leans over you. Fuck. Fuck! You scramble away again and force your feet under you.

"Captain!"

He shrugs, "you've gotta finish what you've started."

" _Fuck_ you!"

Sharky's still stunned by the kick, he wasn't expecting it and he's trying to regain his composure. You rush him and push him into the mast, slamming him into it with all your strength - which compared to his, isn't much. His head snaps up and he spits in your face, it's mostly blood and you realize that the kick made him bite his tongue. You want to wipe your face, get the blood off you. You feel disgusting as it runs down your face, mixing with the blood that's still flowing from your nose. Your skin is crawling. God you hate this man.

"Hit him!" Someone screams and you glance around at them giving him a chance to throw you backwards. You land on your back and roll, your neck getting crushed as you go over your head. You cry out in pain as you sprawl on the floor.

"Get up!" Someone else is yelling at you and you're starting to realize you were wrong, they want to see _you_ win.

You force your feet under you and you stand, taking a blow to the ribs that knocks you on your ass, you roll onto your knees looking up at him, pain in your eyes.

"Just where I wanted you," he grins, refueling your anger. Like hell you were going to kneel for him.

You stand. And you kick up, your foot sliding between his legs and connecting with his balls with such a force you feel them compress between your boot and his body. He makes a noise so inhuman you recoil, taking a step back as he collapses.

Most of the men make distressed noises along with choruses of 'oooh's. You kick him in the face and knock him backwards, leaning over him. You spit in his face as he stares up at you, tears in his eyes as he clutches his groin.

"I will never get on my knees for you, you disgusting pig." Then you turn to the other men, the other crew members surrounding you. "And that goes for the rest of you. You try anything ever again, any of you touch me without my permission - you're gonna end up like ol' _Sharkbait_ here." You catch a glimpse of Sam, standing with his arms folded, a grin on his face. He approves.

"Kill him!" Someone yells. You shake your head and kick him again, knocking him unconscious. You take a step away and the world spins, the wooden floor coming up to meet you. You feel your head hit the deck and you groan, trying to push yourself back up, but between your dizziness and the movement of the ship you can't stay up without feeling extraordinarily sick.

"Someone get her to the surgeon!" Someone else yells.

"No," Sam says as he steps forward, moving to your side. "Help me carry her to my quarters."

They all stare in disbelief as Sam crouches, wrapping your arm around his neck as he pulls you to your feet and then lifts you into his arms, your head falls heavy against his chest. "I've got you," he breathes, striding across the deck to his cabin.

~

You think you lost consciousness. You're not entirely sure. You remember going through the door and then everything went black for a while.

You blink open your eyes and you're not in your bed. You know because if you were there would be the smell of sweat in the air and men snoring all around you. You glance around and very quickly realize you're in Sam's quarters. You know this mainly because he's sitting at the desk, his feet propped on the table as he sleeps, his hat tilted over his eyes.

From the amount of lit lanterns around the large room and the lack of natural light coming through the windows you can tell that it's dark out now, you wonder how long you've been out; it must've been hours. Someone's taken off the underbust corset you wear over your shirt - you assume it was Sam, probably to ease the pressure on your ribs - and your boots are lying on the ground a few feet away next to his desk along with his.

You shift on the bed, trying not to make too much noise. You debate leaving but you're not sure your legs would hold you if you tried. So you stay. Laying in his bunk until he starts to stir. His feet slip off the desk and he wakes with a start, making a surprised noise as his hat falls off his head and onto the floor. You stifle a laugh, your lips twitching into an amused smile. He glances over at you, "oh! You're awake," and he's on his feet, stumbling his way over to you. He drops to his knees beside the bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you tell him, "everything hurts."

"Well you did pick a fight with one of the biggest guys on the ship," he smiles, "you couldn't have gone after Jimmy? He's pretty scrawny, could've taken him no problem."

"He's a teenage runaway and the _chef_ ," you tell him, "why would I fight him? He wasn't grabbing my ass, he was making dinner."

"Is that what it was about?" he asked.

You nod, "yeah, they've been doing it since I got here. They grope me, make inappropriate comments, and whistle every time I bend over."

"You should've told me."

"I'm not having you fight my battles for me, they'd never respect me," you tell him, "I just... I didn't know it was him, I just reacted. I was angry and sick of it. Someone grabbed my ass and I grabbed them. I couldn't back out once I'd done that."

He nodded, "I have some water ready to clean up your wounds. It's been sat for a while now but it'll still be good."

You smile, "you're gonna clean my wounds, Captain?"

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Sam?"

"I really shouldn't," you breathe.

He stands and goes to retrieve the water, "what would make you change your mind?" he picks up the bowl and cloth then moves back to the bunk, setting the bowl on the bed.

"You not being the Captain," you say. "It's disrespectful."

"Then, sweetheart, disrespect me all you want," he grins, dunking the cloth in the bowl, he squeezes the excess water out then hooks a finger under your chin. He's gentle in a way you never expected him to be when he draws the cloth over your face. The water is warm and the cloth is rough against your skin, you start tearing up as he wipes the blood away from your nose, the pain you're experiencing tells you it's broken.

"You're gonna be alright, babygirl," he breathes.

You feel your breath catch and you're not sure how you feel about him calling you that. You want to ask him not to, he's your chief officer. But god, you like how it sounds, especially in his voice, his accent. You whimper and this time it's not from the pain.

"Can I see your ribs?" he asks, "you took quite the blow to the chest, I want to make sure they're not broken."

"You sure you don't just want me to take my shirt off?" you ask him with raised eyebrows.

"I promise you, I just want to make sure you're okay," he breathes.

"You're a pirate," you say. And he smiles, knowing exactly what you mean.

You sigh and start unbuttoning your shirt, a wave of nerves goes over you as your eyes meet his; he's watching you, of course he is, he's got to look at your bruises, that's the point, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from swarming in your stomach.

You shrug the shirt off and swing your legs over the side of the bunk so you're facing him properly, he immediately crouches and starts feeling along your ribs. Your cheeks flush as he comes alarmingly close to touching your breasts, but never actually going as far as to touch them, check the ribs lying beneath them. "Captain," you say.

He continues prodding and you swallow hard, a breathy whisper of "Sam" slipping from your lips. His gaze snaps up then, and god his eyes - he looks so fucking turned on and it almost knocks you flat out.

"God," you blurt, "just... just fucking-"

He shifts on the floor, his hands still on your ribs, he breathes out your name as he looks at you. You whine and he smirks, his hands tracing down your sides. "What's wrong, babygirl?"

"Captain - _Sam_ \- I..." your voice cracks as his hands reach for your belt, " _please_?"

He unbuckles it, unbuttoning your trousers, you push your hips up so he can tug them down, his eyes fall on you, widening as they take in the sight before him. "You're not wearing underwear?"

You shake your head, "no. None of the underwear you gave me fits right, it's all for men."

He frowns, suddenly distracted, "we'll get you some next time we stop-"

You interrupt, "shut up."

His eyebrows raise as he glances back up at you, "did you just tell your Captain to-"

"Sam."

He falls silent, staring up at you with that lust in his eyes and you feel like you're being pulled under a current, drowned under the waves. Because goddammit, you're not supposed to be turned on by your chief officer but fuck - he's hot. And he's looking at you like that. Your knees twitch apart and he glances down. "Oh, babygirl," he smiles, "are you hot for Captain?"

You swallow hard, "Sam-"

He lunges at you and you gasp, his hands grabbing anything they can, your hips, your waist. His lips collide with yours roughly, almost painfully and you moan as you fall backwards, your shoulders hitting the cabin wall, Sam leaning over you. His tongue forces its way into your mouth and he's getting hard already, you can feel him pressing against you, grinding on you. Your hand tangles in his hair as your legs wrap around his waist, and suddenly he's breaking the kiss. "Fuck," he gasps, he's panting and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen, he's coming so undone already and it's all because of you. "I had a _plan_."

"Plan?" you ask, because if that plan involves more of this... you're in.

He nods and falls to his knees, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart. "First; I want to worship you like you deserve to be," he places chaste kisses up the inside of your thigh and your eyes turn dark, you can feel yourself getting wet and you want him like you've never wanted anything before in your entire existence on this planet. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you whimper, "Sam..."

His lips twitch up and he slowly works his way up towards your pussy, you moan quietly and push your leg up, trying to hint, " _please_?"

"You deserve the world," he breathes between kisses, "I'm going to give you it, princess." Your eyes close and your lips part as he gets to the top of your thigh. _Finally_.

He moves to your stomach, skipping over your pussy entirely and you whine, "Sam," he smiles against your skin as he trails kisses up to your breasts, his hands holding your waist, "Sam, I need-"

"Shh," he breathes, "I know, I want to take my time." You shouldn't complain, you _wouldn't_ , god, you love what he's doing to you but he's driving you completely insane and if he doesn't do something soon you're going to explode, there's only so much you can take and he's pushing you to your threshold.

His mouth is working its way up your neck now, moving towards your ear, your breath keeps catching in your throat and you're finding it hard to stay still. His erection is pressing against you and if you move you can get the slightest amount of friction, even if it's not enough it's sending sparks up your spine and making your toes curl. You moan, loud and desperate, and he moans back, his hips rocking against you. His breath is ragged in your ear as he whispers, "second; I want to taste you."

He drops back to his knees and you groan as he lifts your legs onto his shoulders, you look down at him through your lashes - he looks like he wants to devour you, like he hasn't eaten in months. He licks his lips and spreads you with his thumbs, moaning quietly when he sees you, "you're so wet, babygirl. Is that all for me?"

The only response you can muster is a moan and he doesn't seem to mind, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, you bite your lip to stifle a second moan that tries to slip past, his breath dances across your wetness as his mouth drops lower. There are so many noises wanting to break out of your chest - whimpers, moans, whines - but you hold them back behind a dam of lip and teeth. His tongue pushes inside you and you squeak, your hand returning to his hair, tugging lightly as you try to gain back some control.

He doesn't let you. His tongue dips into you over and over, licking you out until you're a gasping, writhing mess. His name becomes your mantra, anchoring you to reality and preventing you from completely losing yourself. He mouths his way up to your clit and starts sucking, your eyes roll back into your head as he moans against you. His tongue teases you until you're about to come then he sits back, a smirk on his face. "Sam," you breathe, "please-"

"Babygirl, you don't need to beg," he tells you as he stands, unfastening his belt and removing the blue sash he wears around his waist, "I already told you - you're my princess and tonight I'll worship you however you want me to."

"Fuck," you breathe. He unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, then unbuttons his trousers and quickly removes those too, revealing that he isn't wearing underwear either. Your eyes widen when you see how big he is, "Captain-"

"Sam," he insists, his hands settling on your hips, he's pressing against your entrance and you can't quite seem to catch your breath. He leans over you, one hand moving to the back of your neck. His lips ghost over yours, "third," he breathes, "I want to bury myself inside you," his voice turns into a growl and you try to choke back the moan that comes up your throat, "and _fuck_ you until you're a whimpering mess, my princess," the moan slips from your lips and he smirks.

"Please, Sam," you breathe, " _please_."

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, barely even letting it linger for more than a few seconds, then pushes inside. You groan as he stretches you, god - he's bigger than you expected. It almost hurts. Almost. You gasp his name and he kisses your lips again, more urgent this time and you moan into his mouth, your hands coming up to scratch down his back.

"Tell me when you're ready, princess," he breathes, beginning to pepper your face with kisses, "I know I'm big," you feel like that's an understatement but you appreciate that he's giving you time to adjust to his size. He presses his lips to yours again, his tongue running along your bottom lip, you moan and uses it as an opportunity to slides his tongue in and _oh_ he still tastes like you. Your hand tangles in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as he licks the inside of your mouth, his tongue toying with yours. Your knees twitch open a little further as you moan; it's starting to feel like your brain is melting.

He pulls back and you nod, "I'm ready."

He hesitates, which you didn't expect to happen, "tell me if I hurt you, alright?"

You nod again, "of course."

He starts slow, shallow, and as your moans start to increase in volume and frequency he grabs the back of your thighs and pushes your legs back towards your chest, working himself deeper. Every now and then he brushes against your spot and you make an incoherent noise that you can't prevent from escaping you no matter how hard you try to. It'd be embarrassing if Sam didn't moan every time it happened, if he didn't thrust against that spot again just to hear you make it one more time.

"You're so beautiful, princess," he breathes, leaning down to kiss your neck, you groan and close your eyes as they roll back into your head. You're getting close to your climax again and you can feel sparks tingling through every part of your body. "Sam-" you barely manage to his name past the moans trying to force their way up your throat.

He pulls back and lets go of your legs to start stroking your clit while you scratch his back like it isn't already bleeding, you grab for him with one of your hands and he catches it, holding tightly. " _Sam_ -"

"Don't hold back, princess," he breathes, "just look into my eyes and come."

You glance up at his eyes and before you know what's happened they've locked you in like manacles, you can't move, you can barely even breathe or blink anymore. All you can do is hold onto his hand and let him push you over the edge, trying not to choke on his name as you're dragged down to the depths.

"That's it, good girl," his hips slow to a stop as he gives you a moment to recover, he leans down until his forehead touches yours, "tell me when to keep going, princess."

You want to scream at him that he can keep going now, that you want another orgasm, but you can't find your voice and you take that as a sign that you do need the offered minute. While you wait he starts teasing your clit with his fingers, you whimper and start arching up wanting more friction, he smirks and you're right there about to come again. "Sam-" your voice wobbles as you speak, "I'm gonna-"

He starts moving his hips again and after a few thrusts you cry out, dissolving into moans as you climax a second time. "Sam-"

"Give me a number, princess, I'll make sure you get there," he tells you.

You groan and dig your nails into his back, "fuck, Sam."

"Number," he repeats.

"Fuck..." you try to think. You can't even remember any numbers. You can't remember how to count. "Four?" It's the first thing to pop into your head. You're not even sure it is a number or if it's a word you made up; your brain feels as shaky as your legs.

His eyes turn darker if that's even possible, "four? Alright, babygirl, if you think you can handle it."

You swallow. Fuck. Wait isn't that a lot? _Could_ you handle four? You already feel like your body is giving out, like you can't take in another breath, and god - it's so intense. Everything is so intense. "Sam-!"

"Can't back out now, princess," he says, as if he already knows what you're thinking, "I promised you I'd make you a whimpering mess. I intend to keep that promise."

You whine, high and loud, and he chuckles. "Ready to keep going?"

"You don't need to stop," you breathe, "and you don't need to go slow. I can take it, I promise."

"I know _you_ can, princess, it's your ribs I'm worried about," he says, "they're broken."

Oh. You could have sworn they were just bruised. His lips brush against yours and you whimper, his fingers circling your swollen clit, his name slips from your lips again.

"H-how close are you?" you choke.

"Don't worry about me," he tells you, "I'll do this all night if you want me to."

You moan, your back arching, "good girl," he smirks and his hips start moving once more, his lips trailing down your neck and you're burning up, you're panting for air that your lungs can't take. God you need this, you need him, a wave of pleasure smashes into you and you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, "f-fuck, Sam," you moan, "fuck, fuck..." he coaxes you over the edge for a third time and you scream, your nails drawing blood as they scratch at his skin. You collapse back onto the bed, gasping for breath and he slows down, giving you a chance to recover.

You're not sure you can keep going, god you want to. You really want to. You want him to come, you want to know what he looks like, what he sounds like. What it feels like for him to fill you up. A loud moan breaks from your chest and his smirk returns, as he continues to drive you towards that fourth orgasm.

"Oh god!" You can feel sparks shooting through your entire body, and it's like lit gunpowder, like someone has lit the fuses on all the ship's cannons and they were all going off at once. A cacophony of deafening noise that rumbles deep in your chest, shaking your entire body to its core. Because fuck. He's going to kill you.

And, fuck, you _want_ him to. You're begging him to. And from the sound of it, he isn't going to be far behind, he's going to follow you into the depths and you're going to your watery grave together. Davy Jones' locker won't be so bad with company.

His lips are on yours again and he's kissing you like your lungs contain the only clean air in the world and all the rest is tainted with poison. You groan, your nails scraping down his back, your toes are curling and you're so close you want to scream. The kiss breaks and you're arching again, you're going to come, " _Sam_ -"

"Come for me," his voice is so ragged, so worn and god he sounds close, "let me hear you, princess. I need to hear you. God - I," his voice cracks, "I'm so close, babygirl."

The sparks are setting you on fire, and you're burning like an effigy, you're going up in flames, your eyes closing as they roll back into your head. Your moans choking you as you're thrown off a cliff, falling into a bottomless pit. And god, it feels like you're flying. You can feel the air whipping around you, and then you smell the salt in the air, the taste of it on your tongue. And you hit the waves at a bone shattering speed. The water fills your lungs and you can't suck in a breath.

He really is going to kill you. You're going to die.

This is it.

Then you feel his hand on yours, holding on like your lifeline. And you claw your way back to the surface, breaking through and sucking in a desperate breath. Your vision swims back into view and Sam looks so gone.

"I'm gonna-"

The hand on his back moves to his face, "Sam..." you lean in, pressing your lips to his and catching your name as it slips from his lips. Your hand moves from his cheek to the back of his neck, your tongue pushing into his mouth, his thrusts start to get more erratic, his moans getting louder, and suddenly he pulls out, wrapping the hand he's holding around him, his over it, guiding you, showing you how to touch him. Three long strokes, twist your wrist at the base, back up, thumb over the head and fuck - fuck he's leaking. The kiss breaks as he pants for air, moaning your name as his forehead rests against yours, you continue to stroke him just like he'd shown you until he starts thrusting into your hand, his moans are getting louder, more frequent.

"Come for me," you breathe, repeating his earlier instructions, "let me hear you, Captain."

He cries out and his cum splatters your hand and stomach, you continue to stroke him as his head falls back, his hips thrusting into your hand as he moans, you can't tear your eyes away from the sweat beading on his forehead, running down his neck... his tattoo. You whimper and he groans, deep in his throat, his head bowing. He grabs your wrist and you stop, moving your hand away.

"You okay, Captain?" you ask quietly.

He laughs breathlessly, nodding, "I am now, princess."

He reaches out and grabs the cloth he'd used to clean the blood and dips it back into the water, squeezing the excess out he uses it to wipe his cum off your stomach. He reaches for your hand and you tug it away, he wrinkles his brow, "let me-"

You bring it up to your mouth and taste him the same way he tasted you, your eyelids fluttering closed. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight, you moan and open your eyes, watching his reaction as you lick your hand clean.

"Fuck, princess..." he breathes.

Your lips twitch up, "you taste good."

"Yeah?"

You nod, his hand cups your cheek as he leans in kissing you deeply, passionately, his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, tasting himself, and god, you wish your body could handle a fifth orgasm. Then he's pulling away and you're struggling to sit up.

"You stay there, babygirl," he tells you, "you're probably tired after that."

You collapse back against the wall and he chuckles, crossing to the door, he yanks it wide open and sticks his head into the hall. "Rafe?"

You gasp and grab for something to cover yourself up with as the ship's quartermaster steps into view, seemingly completely unfazed by Sam's nudity. He glances at you and rolls his eyes, "what do you need?"

"Have the chef make us some dinner and can you bring something to wrap Y/N's ribs with?" He hesitates then says, "and rum. Bring rum. Savvy?"

Rafe scowls, "you have legs, Sam."

"I'm the Captain, Rafe-"

He rolls his eyes, "whatever you say, _Captain_ ," then mock salutes as he walks away. Sam frowns and closes the door.

"Such insubordination, Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters.

"What did you expect from an Adler?" you ask quietly.

He returns to your side and move over for him to sit down, "you have a point there, princess," he breathes, stroking his hand over your cheek as he kisses you, light as a feather.

"This shouldn't have happened..." you breathe, your words dancing across his lips.

"When have I ever played by the rules?"

Your lips twitch up and he grins, sitting back, "I've been wanting to do that since I laid eyes on you."

Your breath catches and he nods, still grinning, "yeah, Captain's hot for you too, princess."


End file.
